Don’t Look Back

Chapter Six

The following afternoon, Tobias emerged from his club and pulled his watch out of his pocket to check the time. It was only just going on two. He was in no hurry and it was a fine day to walk.

He ignored a passing hackney, and with the ease of long familiarity, he made his way through a maze of lanes and streets. His goal was the bookshop where he had made arrangements to meet Lavinia. He planned to treat her to a dish of ice cream and then, if luck was with him, to persuade her to retreat to the crumbling ruin in the park for some extended lovemaking in the spring sunshine.

With that last thought in mind, he cast a wary eye on the heavens. The sun was indeed shining, but there was a nip in the air and he sensed clouds gathering in the distance. He could only hope that the rain would hold off until he could complete the interlude with Lavinia in the park. A fortnight ago they had been interrupted at the crucial moment by a cold shower from the heavens that had done nothing to enhance the romantic ambience.

The business of having to search out suitable locations for their trysts was fast becoming a nuisance, he reflected. A man of his years was not supposed to have to steal away to remote sections of the park or fumble in a closed carriage in order to enjoy his lady’s affections. He ought to be able to enjoy said affections in a proper bed.

But beds were extremely hard to come by when one was engaged in an affair.

He was a block away from the bookshop, toying with the notion of taking Lavinia off to a country inn for a day or two, when a vision in spring pink stepped out of a milliner’s shop and nearly collided with him.

“Mr. March.” Celeste Hudson smiled brilliantly at him from beneath the brim of a charming confection fashioned of palest pink straw and intricately laced ribbons. “How delightful to see you again so soon.”

“Mrs. Hudson.” He grasped her elbow to steady her. “A pleasure. Is your husband about?”

“Heavens, no. Howard has no patience with a lady’s shopping.”

Her laughter was light, almost bubbling. Damned near a rippling brook, he thought. But it had a brittle, false quality that made him think of brightly colored artificial flowers and the pleasure-garden mirrors that reflected distorted images. He was profoundly grateful that Lavinia never laughed like that.

“I cannot say that shopping is one of my favorite sports,” he said.

Celeste opened her little fan and looked at him over the edge in a flirtatious manner that he knew she must have practiced.

The leaf of the fan, Tobias noticed, was exquisitely painted in an unusual and quite dazzling pattern.

There were a number of bright, shiny beads attached to it. The sparkling bits and bobs were arranged in an intriguing pattern that caught the light and attracted his eye. The thing appeared more suited to the ballroom than the street, he thought. But, then, he was hardly an expert on matters of female style.

“Where is Mrs. Lake?” Celeste asked in throaty tones. “Or are you alone this afternoon?”

“I’m on my way to meet Lavinia, as it happens.” The manner in which Celeste manipulated the fan annoyed him. He looked away from it. “She is picking up a new volume of poetry at a bookshop not far from here.”

“Poetry. How nice. I am rather fond of that sort of literature myself.” Celeste twirled the fan in a clever movement that made the sunlight bounce on the glittering ornaments. “I have been meaning to pay a visit to a bookshop. Do you mind if I walk with you, Mr. March?”

“Of course not.”

She slipped her gloved fingers under his arm with a graceful expertise that he could only admire, and continued to make the light dance on her fan.

“A lovely day, is it not?” she murmured.

“The good weather won’t last long.”

“Come now, don’t be so pessimistic, Mr. March.”

“It’s not pessimism.” It was difficult to avoid the damned fan, he discovered. Celeste managed to angle the thing in such a way that it kept snagging his gaze. He had a sudden urge to snatch the thing out of her hand and toss it into the gutter. “It’s a statement of fact.”

She tilted her head so that the pink straw bonnet framed her pretty features to excellent advantage. “I collect that you are a man who prefers to deal with the hard realities of life. Not one who allows himself to enjoy fantasies and dreams.”

“Fantasies and dreams are for those who wish to delude themselves.”

“I disagree, sir.” She looked at him over the top of her fan again, her eyes as bright and intriguing as the shiny beads. “Some fantasies and dreams can come true. But only for those who are willing to pay the price.”

“I think it far more likely that after handing over the required fee, one would find oneself left holding only a handful of sparkling bubbles that would soon burst and disappear.”

Sparkling bubbles that would look very much like the glittering beads on the fan, he thought.

She smiled at him and, with a quick twist of her hand, made the fan dip and swoop. “Perhaps your problem is that you have never had the good fortune to actually encounter a fantasy or a dream. My advice is not to judge the value of the goods until you have had a chance to sample them.”

“As I am not likely to be offered free samples, I doubt I shall have the opportunity to form any judgments concerning the wares.”

“Ah, now, in that you are seriously mistaken.” Celeste laughed again and squeezed his arm lightly, intimately. “I can assure you that there are free samples to be had if one happens to know the right place in which to shop.”

“As I just told you, I am not particularly keen on shopping.”

The fan fluttered in her hand. The tiny lights flashed.

“I can show you where to find some very excellent free samples, Mr. March,” she said softly. “What is more, I can promise you that when you have had a taste of the wares you will be completely satisfied.”

He looked down into her glowing eyes. “Would you mind putting that bloody fan away, Mrs. Hudson? I find it irritating.”

She blinked, clearly startled. The fan stilled abruptly in her hand. The invitation and the promise faded in her eyes.

“Of course, Mr. March.” She snapped the fan closed. “Forgive me, I had no idea that it bothered you.”

“Mrs. Hudson,” Lavinia called loudly from halfway down the block. “This is a surprise. Imagine meeting up with you and Mr. March here in the middle of the street.”

Tobias smiled at the sound of her voice. It was a crisp, bracing tonic, a strong antidote to Celeste’s cloying sweetness.

He watched Lavinia stride purposefully toward them, a small bundle that no doubt contained a newly purchased volume of poetry in one hand, a perky green-and-white parasol in the other. She was dressed in a deep emerald green gown and a striped-green pelisse.

Another one of Madam Francesca’s creations, he thought. The gemlike hues set off Lavinia’s red hair, which was bound up beneath a clever little green hat.

She came to a halt in front of him and gave him a steely smile.

“You’re late,” she announced.

She was not in a good mood, he realized. Beneath the wispy veil of the hat, her eyes glinted in a dangerous fashion.

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Celeste murmured. She did not take her hand away from Tobias’s arm. “We bumped into each other here on the street and fell to chatting. I trust you will forgive me for distracting your Mr. March for a moment or two?”

“In my experience, Mr. March is rarely distracted unless he wishes to be distracted.” Lavinia gave Tobias another icy little smile. “I collect that the subject you were discussing was quite riveting?”

“I believe we were conversing about the pleasures of shopping,” Tobias said. With a small but determined movement of his arm, he succeeded in dislodging Celeste’s dainty little claws.

“Shopping?” Lavinia raised her brows. “Not one of your favorite subjects, as I recall.” She turned back to Celeste. “Speaking of shopping, I saw your fan just as you were folding it, Mrs. Hudson. Most unusual. May I ask where you purchased it? I should like to find a similar one.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Celeste dropped the fan into her reticule. “I made it myself.”

“You don’t say.” Lavinia’s eyes widened admiringly. “I am extremely impressed. Unfortunately, I possess no artistic talents whatsoever.”

“I’m sure you have other talents, Mrs. Lake.”

There was a distinct edge to Celeste’s voice now, Tobias noticed. The rippling-brook effect had vanished entirely.

“I like to think that I do have one or two humble skills,” Lavinia said with patently false modesty. “Take shopping, for instance. I consider that I have a distinct talent for being able to spot cheap, shoddy goods at a glance.”

“Indeed.” Celeste stiffened, but her condescending smile remained firmly fixed. “I, on the other hand, have always had a knack for identifying frauds and charlatans. I suspect such individuals are something of a problem in your new line, are they not?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Celeste raised one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “Evidently just anyone can set herself up as an investigator and make claims of expertise that cannot possibly be verified.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How on earth is a potential client to know whether or not he or she is dealing with an individual who is actually qualified to make private inquiries?” Celeste asked innocently.

“If one is wise, one selects an investigator the same way one selects a practitioner of mesmerism,” Lavinia shot back smoothly. “One relies upon references.”

“You can provide references, Mrs. Lake? I am astonished to hear that.”

It was time to intervene, Tobias decided. He did not relish the notion of stepping into the middle of this skirmish, but his duty as Lavinia’s occasional partner was clear. He dared not stand by and watch her get drawn into a loud and embarrassing scene right here in the middle of the street. She would never forgive him for allowing her to humiliate herself in such a public fashion.

“Speaking of business matters, Mrs. Hudson,” he said just as Lavinia opened her mouth to respond to Celeste’s latest goad, “I assume that you and Dr. Hudson have several excellent references from your time in Bath.”

“Yes, of course we do.” Celeste glared at Lavinia. “Howard gave therapeutic treatments to only the most exclusive sort. I made certain of it.”

“I doubt if your clientele was any more exclusive than ours,” Lavinia shot back.

“Indeed?” Celeste gave her a pitying look. “I think it is highly unlikely that you can count such distinguished gentlemen as Lords Gunning and Northampton on your list of clients.”

Lavinia opened her mouth to retaliate. Tobias took her arm in a firm grip and squeezed just hard enough to get her attention. She shot him a disgruntled look, but she closed her mouth.

“Impressive,” he said quickly. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Lake has not yet acquired any titled clients, but perhaps she will be lucky enough to do so one of these days. Meanwhile, you must excuse us. We have an appointment.”

“We do not have an appointment,” Lavinia said.

“Yes, we do,” he said. “You have obviously forgotten it.” He smiled at Celeste. “Good day, madam.” • Celeste switched her attention back to him. The sparkling look returned to her eyes, and her voice became warm and husky once more. “Good day, Mr. March. It was a pleasure meeting up with you. I trust that we shall bump into each other again in the very near future. I would very much like to continue our discussion of how one may obtain free samples of certain very special wares.”

“Indeed,” he said.

He turned, and dragging Lavinia with him, walked swiftly away.

There was a short moment of silence. He could feel Lavinia vibrating with outrage on his arm.

“You do realize,” Lavinia said, “that she was attempting to put you into a trance with that silly fan.”

“It occurred to me, yes. It was an interesting experience. Especially in light of the fact that she made a point of telling us the other day that she had no talent for the art of mesmerism.”

Lavinia sniffed with undisguised disdain. “I doubt if she does have much genuine ability. But she has been working with Howard for a year, so it is possible that she has picked up a few rudimentary skills.”

“And chose to practice them on me? I wonder why she went to the trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The answer is perfectly obvious, if you ask me. She intended to seduce you and thought to use her poor mesmeric techniques to accomplish her goal.”

He smiled. “Do you really believe that was her objective?”

“I am quite certain of it. It is clear to me that she finds you fascinating, intriguing, and something of a challenge.”

“I would be flattered were it not for the fact that I have the distinct impression that Celeste places all men into one of two categories. Useful and Not Useful. I have a nasty suspicion that she has decided that I fit into the former.”

Lavinia tilted the parasol to get a better look at him. “You believe that she thinks she can somehow use you?”

“It is a blow to my pride, of course. Nevertheless, I am forced to conclude that it is the most likely explanation for her interest in me.”

“And just how do you imagine that she might use you, sir?”

“Damned if I know,” he admitted.

“Rubbish.” Lavinia’s hand tightened around his arm. “I think she is madly attracted to you and thinks it would be amusing to indulge in an affair.”

He grinned. “As I am not the sort of man who can be put into a trance by just any passing mesmerist, we are unlikely to ever discover the truth of her intentions.”

“I trust not.”

“Are you by any chance jealous, Lavinia?”

“Of her extremely limited mesmeric skills? Certainly not.”

“Not of Celeste’s mesmeric talents.” He lowered his voice. “Of her interest in me.”

She gazed straight ahead. “Is there any reason why I should feel the pangs of jealousy?”

“No.”

She brightened. “Then the subject does not arise.”

“The subject has arisen. You’re avoiding it.”

“Really, Tobias. You are a man of honor. Your word is your bond. Of course I trust you.”

“That is not quite the question I am asking.”

“That nonsense about free samples.” Lavinia gave him a suspicious look. “She was offering herself to you, wasn’t she?”

“You know me, my dear. I have never taken the trouble to master the fine arts of flirtation and innuendo, so I cannot say for certain what she was about with that chatter.”

“Bloody hell.” Lavinia came to a halt and spun around to face him. “That is precisely what she was doing. That hussy as much as offered you a free sample of the extremely cheap goods she is selling. What nerve.”

“You are jealous.” For some reason he felt quite cheerful.

“Let’s just say that I do not trust that woman any farther than I could throw that hackney over there.”

“On that point, we are in complete agreement.” Tobias looked back over his shoulder to where Celeste had been standing a few minutes ago. “The goods may be cheap, but I very much doubt that anything Mrs. Hudson offers-including samples-would prove to be free.”